Chill Factor (43 page)

William sniffed as though indifferent to the threat, but he
reached
into his pants pocket and withdrew a heavy key ring, which he'd had in
his possession all along.

Dutch snatched it from him. "You coming?" he asked Wes.

Wes didn't reply but followed Dutch through the house and out
the
back door.

They didn't speak again until they were in the Bronco, headed
toward
the garage. "If word of this gets out, do you know what will happen to
Scott's chances of getting a scholarship? They don't want college
freshmen humping their professors."

He banged his fist on the dash, several times. Bam, bam, bam.
"And
that son of a bitch Ritt. I'd like to make gravy of that sniveling
little bastard's bowels. He set us up to find them, didn't he?"

"He set us up."

"Why?"

"Payback."

"For what? What did I ever do to him?"

Dutch frowned across at him.

Wes had the grace to look chagrined.

"He wanted to get back at you for all the slights over the
years,
real and perceived. I don't know why he'd want to humiliate Marilee,
though." He thought a moment, then said, "Scott's just a kid. He'll
take pussy where and when it's offered, even from a teacher. But
Marilee? I'm shocked. Who'd have thought she was capable of this?"

Wes gave a scoffing laugh. "Oh, they're all capable of it.
Didn't
you know? They're all whores at heart."

It was probably one of his many aches that woke him up. That,
and
being cold now that Lilly had left their nest. Keeping his eyes closed,
Tierney burrowed deeper into the covers and let his mind drift. To last
night. To Lilly. To that first time, to that sweet, silent, fluid,
ebb-and-flow fuck. He couldn't have wished for it to be more perfect.

They hadn't spoken a word. They hadn't had to. Touch became
their
language, and it was a dialect in which they'd both been fluent. With
millennia of instinctual behavior guiding him, he'd claimed ownership
of her, made the body he so desired his. And Lilly, in the mystical and
knowing way of woman, had allowed him the self-deception that
he
had been the one to possess
her
.

After that first time, when he finally had rolled off her onto
his
side, he carried her with him, so that they were lying face-to-face.
He'd wished he could read her mind, wished he knew if he had regained
her trust. As he'd stared into her eyes, they appeared trustful. Or
maybe the lambency was a remnant of her orgasm.

He'd brushed several strands of hair off her damp cheek.
Touched her
lower lip with the back of his index finger, run his knuckle along her
teeth. "You know I didn't use anything."

She nodded.

"You should have made me pull out."

She gave him a look.

"I swear I would have if you'd asked me to."

"But I didn't."

"No. You didn't." He curved his arm around her waist, placed
his
hand on the small of her back, and drew her against him until his cock
was nestled in the vee between her thighs. They kissed. Sexily. Her
mouth was hot and eager, wet and receptive. Just thinking about the
possibilities it afforded made his blood flow like lava.

Laughing softly, he broke the kiss. "I can't believe I'm
saying
this, but I'm burning up."

She smiled. "So am I."

They took off their clothes.

Lilly naked. Jesus.

He finally got to see her, and he couldn't look enough. She
was
beautiful. Her breasts lay soft against her chest. Firelight waltzed
across her skin, forming erotic tongues of shadow that seemed to lick
at her nipples.

"Last summer, whenever you got wet—"

"I know what you're going to say," she interrupted. "I was
embarrassed."

"I knew you were. So I tried to be a gentleman and keep my
eyes
above your neck. It wasn't easy." He strummed the center of her chest
with the backs of his fingers.

"You touched me today," she said in a voice that was low and
husky.
"While I was asleep."

His gaze flickered up to hers, then away. "Not much. A little."

"I thought I was dreaming."

"I thought I was too." Then he looked into her face again. "
If
I'm dreaming now, don't wake me up."

"I won't."

Her nipple hardened at his touch. His thumb made several
passes
across it, then he gently pressed it between his fingers.

Her reaction was to gasp his name. Then she said, "Put your
mouth on
me."

He lowered his head and rubbed his lips across her nipple.
"You've
been cheating."

"How?"

"Window peeping on my fantasies."

An involuntary groan issued from Tierney's chest now as he
relived
taking her nipple into his mouth. His tongue well remembered the
texture of it, the taste. He opened his eyes, smiling when he realized
that his recollection had evolved into a dream when he lapsed back into
sleep.

But he was fully awake now. All of him. He had a painful
erection.

"Why should that be the only part of me not aching?" he
muttered.
Grimacing from various aches, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his
eyes. "Lilly?"

He threw back the blankets and stood up. Or tried He was on
his
feet, but his body was bent at a right angle. From there, he eased
himself to his full height, every bone, joint, and muscle protesting.
His skin broke out in gooseflesh. He shivered against the cold.
Grab-bing the top blanket, he wrapped it around himself.

"Lilly?" When she didn't answer, he headed into the bedroom.

Lilly paused on the edge of the forest to enjoy the
breathtaking
scene. It looked like a three-dimensional Christmas card. The boughs of
the evergreens were heavily laden with snow. The naked branches of the
hardwoods looked nearly black in contrast to the white backdrop. The
dawn shone only on the very top branches of the trees, which swayed in
the erratic wind currents. But on the floor of the forest it was dark
and still.

It was a natural cathedral, a place of worship. She wished she
could
linger and enjoy the hushed serenity. But it didn't take long for her
toes to become numb inside her boots, reminding her that, as pretty as
it was, this was still the wilderness, deadly if one didn't take
precautions.

Sticking to the crude path, she arrived at the shed. Snow had
formed
deep drifts against the exterior walls, but when Tierney had forced
open the door, it had pushed aside some of the drift, leaving the
doorway partially clear.

She waded through the snow that had accumulated since he'd
been
there and gripped the door latch. She pulled hard, but the door didn't
open. In fact, it didn't budge. She tugged on it several times, but it
seemed unmovable. Putting all her strength into it, she tried again.
When it did give way, it did so suddenly, startling her. She fell back
a step and almost lost her balance.

Laughing at her clumsiness, she entered the shed. It was
darker
inside than she had expected. She chided herself for not bringing the
flashlight because she wanted to find the ax quickly and leave. There
were always spiders in the shed. Probably mice. She'd never gone into
it without the fear of disturbing a snake.

Although all sensible creatures were snug in their beds today,
the
dank environment alone was enough to give her the willies. It also had
the unpleasant, musty odor of enclosures with earthen floors.

She gave her eyes time to adjust to the gloom, then took a
glance
around. The ax was nowhere in sight, but she remembered it being in the
toolbox.

The sound of her own breathing was loud. It wasn't a bona fide
wheeze, but it was getting close. Maybe she'd made a careless decision
by walking here. Ordinarily, that amount of exercise wouldn't have been
harmful or particularly taxing. But in light of yesterday's severe
asthma attack, as well as the subfreezing temperature, she probably
shouldn't have done anything this strenuous. All the more reason to
retrieve the ax quickly and return to the cabin. To Tierney. To bed
with Tierney.

She didn't remember the lid to the large wooden box being so
heavy.
Her first attempt to lift it failed. She managed to raise it only an
inch and was winded by the strain. If she had an attack out here,
Tierney would never let her hear the end of it.

She bent her knees and placed the heels of both hands against
the
edge of the lid. By straightening her knees and pushing with all her
might, she managed to raise the lid and push it up. When it was
perpendicular, its own weight caused it to fall against the wall behind
it before Lilly could catch it.

It landed with a racket that she never heard.

Because she was staring down into Millicent Gunn's dead, milky
eyes.

Breath was expelled in a rush, but when she tried to suck it
back in
to form a scream, her bronchial tubes had already constricted. All that
came out was a thin whine.

Mindlessly she backed away from the horrifying sight,
instinctively
seeking escape. She spun around but froze when she saw Tierney standing
silhouetted in the rectangle of light formed by the open doorway.

She took everything in at once. He'd put on his jeans and
boots, but
beneath his coat, which hung open, his chest was bare. It was rising
and falling rapidly. He was out of breath. He'd been running.

"Tierney," she gasped. "Millicent…"

"You weren't supposed to see that."

And then, in a blinding instant of clarity, she understood why
his
features were hard and set, why he had raced to the shed after her, why
he wasn't at all astonished by the sight of Millicent's body, which had
been crammed without any care or respect into a rough, crude box of
rusty tools.

He was coming toward her with his long-legged stride, closing
the
distance between them rapidly, yet Lilly couldn't move. She'd been
stricken with paralysis, the kind experienced in nightmares when one is
confronted with mortal danger yet is helpless to outrun it.

But at the last possible second, she discovered she could move.

When he grabbed her by the shoulders, she fought him with
every
resource she had—nails, teeth, flailing limbs.

She left ribbons of fresh blood on his cheek before he wrapped
his
arms around her tightly, pinning her arms to her sides. "Lilly, stop
it!"

He was grunting and gasping.

No, that wasn't Tierney making that awful noise. It was her
own
asthmatic wheeze.

"Goddammit, Lilly! Give it up!"

"You're a murderer!"

Then she saw his hand descending with lightning speed toward
the
side of her neck.

It didn't hurt at all.

CHAPTER  29
SPECIAL AGENT CHARLIE WISE SPRANG UPRIGHT when his cell phone rang.
Blindly, he fumbled for it among his keys, change, badge wallet, and
eyeglasses, which he'd left on the nightstand when he went to bed. He'd
slept like a dead man, but the chiming ring of his cell was as
effective as the piercing shriek of a fire alarm, unmercifully yanking
him out of unconsciousness. He could very well suffer cardiac arrest
for being awakened so abruptly, but before he did, he must answer this
call.

He flipped up the phone and pressed it to his ear. "Wise."

"Mornin', Hoot. Did I wake you up?"

It was Perkins. The connection crackled with static, but he
could
hear if he strained. "No," he lied as he slid on his glasses. "I'm just
surprised. Didn't realize cell service had been restored until the
phone rang."

"Chopper… about… ago. Weather's
iffy… says…"

"Hold on. Perkins, you still there? Hold on." Hoot bicycled
his legs
to push off the covers. He clambered out of bed and rushed over to a
window, hoping to get a clearer signal. "Perkins?"

"You're breaking up, Hoot."

"Give me the basics."

"Chopper. ETA in Cleary ten hundred hours. Three-member
search-and-rescue team. One former sniper from HRT." Hostage rescue.

"Good news. Anything else?"

"Yeah, on Tier… got… night. Get to
it… away… something…"

Frustrated, Hoot turned his head about, trying to find the
sweet
spot in the atmosphere that would improve their connection. Then he
realized that it had been broken altogether. He checked the readout.
His service indicator was blank.

"Hoot?"

Begley was standing in the doorway to the guest room in which
Hoot
had slept. He was holding his Bible, his place marked with his finger.
He was dressed and looking fresh as a daisy, making Hoot painfully
aware that he was shivering in his drawers. "Morning, sir. That was
Perkins. The helicopter will be here at ten o'clock."

"Excellent." Begley checked his watch. "As soon as you're
dressed…"

"Yes, sir."

Begley backed out of the doorway and pulled it closed behind
him.

Luckily Gus Elmer's hot water heaters ran on propane, so Hoot
showered again, even though that was the first thing he'd done last
night after they'd checked in and were assigned cabin number seven.
Begley wanted to be close to number eight, not trusting Dutch Burton to
stay out of it.

Since there was no electricity, he'd been unable to turn on
Tierney's computer, which frustrated Begley. He was eager to get into
Tierney's files. Hoot was secretly grateful for the delay. He was
cross-eyed with fatigue and doubted he'd have been able to concen-trate
enough to crack Tierney's security codes.

Their cabin was the only other in the compound that had two
bedrooms
separated by a living area and small kitchen. They managed to function
with light from the fireplace, candles, and a kerosene Coleman camp
stove. After eating the canned chili Gus Elmer was happy to
provide—for
a price—Hoot had showered and practically sleepwalked from
the bathroom
to the bed.

Now, five minutes after being awakened, he joined Begley in
the main
room. "I boiled water for coffee, but I don't recommend it. The police
department's coffee is better than this. Let's go wait for the chopper
there. I suppose we also owe Burton the courtesy of letting him know
about the chopper's ETA."